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Breakdown didn't like taking her horse for a ride into populated areas; Her horse was almost as scared of eyes and people as she was, and really, it'd make more sense to take one of the Cuthbert's other horses, along with the carriage, but Breakdown didn't trust them, and her horse didn't like the carriage.
She'd been sent to Charlottetown for errands, but really, it was most likely just Matthew making her get out of the house farther than just the barn, though Breakdown didn't understand the logic. He and Marilla didn't leave much. The air was much fresher at the farmhouse, too.
She kept a note in her dress pocket (which she unfortunately had to add herself), Matthew's list of errands transcribed by Dead End, and a small sketch of a cow in the bottom corner, clearly made by Wildrider before Dead End could give the note to their sister. The note had not a lot written in it, but enough things to keep Breakdown out of the house for more than just the travel time to and from Charlottetown.
First on the list was some flower shop, as Anne wanted some for a party she was hosting. No specifics in the kind of flowers, she just wanted colourful ones. She likely had described them all on great detail, but in the game of telephone, it ended up written as simply "colourful flowers." After then was a wood workshop, with the instructions to pick up a commission for Matthew, as well as some wood finishing for the railing on the stairs as Wildrider had broken it recently in an intense game of tag.
Flower shop first, wood shop second, she repeated while silently begging her horse to not make noise when they got to the city. Her horse was tough, almost as much as she, but Breakdown was quiet. Her horse seemed to trot harder with people around, tense and drawing more and more attention to them both. She question why she brought her horse instead of a different one more used to this kind of travel. Flower shop first, wood shop second.
Breakdown could feel the eyes on her the moment she entered the city. Her horse did, too, by the sound of it. Growling almost at everyone within two meters of them. She'd tell her horse it was okay, that they weren't going to hurt them, but Breakdown didn't believe that herself, and really, what was a horse going to do with that information?
She stopped at the flower shop, or at least what looked like one with bunches of bouquets under it's windows, a stark contrast to the rest of the buildings around it. Breakdown didn't want to leave her house outside the shop, but it's not like it'd fit through the door.
She gave the unnamed horse a small, hopefully unnoticeable hug before she hopped off the saddle and ambled into the shop, opening the door slow enough for the bell to make hardly any sound, though the lady at the work bench noticed her immediately.
"Oh, hello, dear!" The woman cheered, fluffing up flowers in a bouquet of white and blue. "I'll be with you in a moment. We're quite popular today."
Breakdown nodded, shuffling behind a shelf to go unnoticed, though she definitely did not with how low the shelves were. It really only hid her skirt. From where she was, though, she could see another girl behind what looked like a small tree, certainly in a pot far too small for it's roots. She didn't know plants all that well, but trees needed space, much like she did.
The girl behind the tree took a step forward, taking her blue and white bouquet from the shopkeeper with possibly the brightest smile Breakdown had ever seen on anyone. Blonde curls spilled over her shoulders, almost blending into her white dress where Breakdown stared a little too long at.
"Like my dress?" The girl laughed, and suddenly Breakdown's heart dropped below her knees. Sickening. Nauseous. She wanted to get back on her horse and ride like the wind, not even back to Green Gables but to some far away cabin instead. She could rebuild her life as a hermit, maybe. So long as she could still write to her brothers.
Breakdown nodded stiffly. "Sorry," she mumbled.
Looking back to her face, Breakdown recognized her. The American. The one who wanted to talk to her. She ignored Drag Strip, of all people, when that was nearly impossible. Breakdown and Dead End may have been the only people able to before this girl. This anxiety-inducing girl.
The girl laughed, not a fancy, small giggle, but loud and boisterous like she wasn't afraid to be called boyish and rude. "Well, you can have it, if you want. I think the colour would suit you better."
Breakdown went quiet. She didn't want the dress. She didn't like dresses. She wore them out, yes, and at home sometimes, too, but only because Marilla would scold her. Same way she scolded Wildrider for wearing one. At least dresses and skirts were easy enough to sew to her liking.
The shopkeeper shouted gleefully, like she couldn't ever be sad, "I believe this one's for you, love!"
Sure enough, the shopkeeper shoved a bouquet of maybe the whole rainbow out in front of her, and Breakdown awkwardly walked to grab it. Attention. On her. Two people.
"Those look lovely," the American girl breathed like the flowers made her anxious. Maybe allergic.
"Are you okay?" Breakdown asked. She never cared, and didn't know why she cared now.
"Oh?" She nodded, "Yes, yes, I'm fine."
The girl seemed to trail off as she spoke. Breakdown began to walk away, but the girl followed.
"I'm Skydive, by the way! I'm visiting from North Carolina. Lovely place, if you ever get the chance."
"I'm running errands," Breakdown mumbled, maybe. She'd always had trouble controlling her volume, ever since she was young.
"Well," Skydive looked flustered, skin turning almost as red as the glossy buttons on her dress, "I could help? I was just wondering if you could tell me about Canada."
"Maybe," she didn't know much, she just lived here. Flower shop done, wood shop next.
With the wood shop too close to the flower shop to ride her horse again, and for the sake of making her interactions with the American girl less awkward, Breakdown unhitched the horse and took the bridle in her hands to guide it to the shop door. A task that would take far less time if it weren't for the American absolutely enamoured with her. Why did she even care that much, anyways? There were plenty of other people in the city. Their age, older and thus more wise. She could be asking any one of them about anything, and goodness they'd be overjoyed to talk about how mundane their lives are.
"What's your horse's name?" Skydive asked, hands cradling her bouquet like it was a newborn baby about to be stolen from her. Who the hell was going to steal flowers from a teenage girl?
"It doesn't have one," she answered without missing a beat, "It prefers it that way."
Skydive laughed, hearty and loud again, "Yeah? Speak horse, do you?"
Drag Strip would have hollered and said she did, but that she couldn't speak human. Breakdown didn't know how she herself would respond, though. "No, but it hated every name my brothers tried to give it."
"Well, it's a beautiful horse, name or no name."
They walked in silence, save for the sound of their shoes hitting the road, the horseshoes hitting rocks, and the usual city chatter. Skydive spoke about something to Breakdown as she tied her horse to a pole by the wood shop, but she didn't take any of it in. Wood shop, then home.
Unfortunately, the woodshop was quiet enough to hear every sound Skydive made with intense clarity. "What're you getting in the wood shop? No offense, but you didn't seem like that kind of girl to me, and certainly not your friend."
"What friend?"
"The blond one in the carriage with you from the last time I saw you— or is he not your friend? Shouldn't have assumed."
"That's my brother," it wasn't that surprising Skydive didn't think they were related, they look hardly anything alike, "and it's for our older brother. He does almost too much woodwork."
Skydive laughed again, filling the air with somehow cheer and dread at the same time. Breakdown liked the sound of it as much as she didn't like the attention it drew to them.
The shopkeeper didn't look at Breakdown, which she was thankful for. "Cuthberts?" He said, and she responded with a nod, handing over some money Matthew had given her.
Expecting only a small package of varnish, she was surprised to see the man pull out a nicely carved wooden cane far too short for anyone Breakdown knew. "I'm only getting varnish."
"Says here on his order," the man read directly off a note of paper, "Can of varnish, cane for Breakdown. Dunno who that is."
Her face went hot. A cane. Skydive was going to laugh now. Everyone in the city was going to laugh, because why would a teen girl need a cane? Drag Strip was going to snicker when she came home. She didn't need the cane; The railing was getting fixed.
"Thank you," was all she said, before rushing out the store and putting the varnish into the saddle bag.
"Hey," Skydive said gentle and too sweet for someone who just learned this girl she's been obsessed with is weak enough to need a cane at such a young age. "Wanna hang out? Somewhere quiet. I know a hill just outside the city I think is peaceful."
"I'm fine, I-I need to get home."
"You need to rest," Skydive pressed, grabbing Breakdowns hand and pulling it from the horse's saddle, "and riding home is still working. Rest, then go."
Static was in Breakdown's head. Like it had stopped working entirely. She noted how tired she was. How much pain she was in, that she'd been ignoring before. She almost grabbed the cane.
"C'mon, hop on… It. I'll give directions."
Breakdown got on her horse, not trusting Skydive entirely just yet. "I'll pick the spot."
Giving a mock salute, Skydive got on behind her and wrapper her arms around Breakdown's waist like they were made to fit there. "Got it, ma'am."
—
The Sun was going down, sky orange and air cold. Skydive looked at Breakdown like she was more interesting than the view, and placed a blue flower above her ear.
"What's that for?" She asked. Skydive only laughed, then stared. She stared at Breakdown, but not with judgement. Not like she was analysing her or scanning her for imperfections and poor qualities. It was like she was appreciating her. Every bit.
"You like lavenders?"
"Is that code for something to Americans?"
"Maybe," and Skydive pressed a gentle kiss to Breakdown's forehead.